Penny's Jottings

Tis Christmas in July and time for celebration

No Santas flying by, no garish decoration

No stocking hanging up to receive expensive gifts

Just meeting up with friends to give ourselves a lift

No planning secret Santa, no spending too much cash

No frantic buying frenzy, no midnight bargain dash

No cooking up a turkey on a hot midsummer day

No family treats and tantrums, no people here to stay

No Christmas cards to monitor (there may be more to send)

No children’s Santa letters with demands that never end

No wine spilt on the carpet, no prawns to wrap and freeze

No water guns or bombs, no crying children to appease

No regrets for buying presents for folk who spend much less

No farewelling friends and family and cleaning up the mess!

No receiving gifts unwanted with a smile and pretend joy

No outward relaxed presence when treading on a toy (specially lego)

But its Christmas in July and a time that we will treasure

No stress, no pain, no tension, just an evening of pleasure

We’ll sing a song or two just to get us in the mood

And then we’ll have some fun and games and eat a lot of food

Hooray for our midwinter cause its cold and wet and breezy

And winter clothes are loose and long and never feel too squeezy

So eating up a Christmas meal in winter is real easy

But we will have to be aware that summers on its way

And swimsuits will betray us all on our next Christmas day

Its my birthday once more

I really cant keep score!

am I fifteen or thirty eight again?

the years rush by so fast

has a year really passed?

I missed it while singing in the rain

I am fit to a degree

well… fit as I can be

fat and feisty, and face life with a grin

I’ve seen many sights

had magic sleepless nights

and I’m happy to wear the shoes I am in

I saw Elvis from the start

Cliff Richard won my heart

Bobby Dylan gave me food to think

I loved the Beatles sound

and Queen’s ‘Champion’ pound

experiences pass by in a blink

I have little to regret

and maybe there’s time yet

to empty my bucket of desires

footloose and fancy free

There is just George and me!

do I have time to set the world on fire?

There you are

A kind man, doing kind things

Known for your kindness

Being kind

There you are

A wicked man

Doing wicked things

Known for your wickedness

Being wicked

Blended

Combined

Joined

Unified, one.

The mouth open

Smiling

Snarling

Open and smiling and snarling

The eyes wide

Winking

Glaring

Wide and winking and glaring

The hands soothing

Gentle

Beating

Soothing, gentle and forcing

The shadow of evil hovers and darkens

Memories re-formed and reproduced

Love tainted with fearful suspicion

Love tainted with fearful suspicion

Nothing is the same

A lifetime changed

Everything is changed,

Everything is changed

No person is all good or all bad

But the good crumbles

Lost forever

gone

There you are, two-faced man

Kind and loving, cruel and wicked

Goodness erased by evil

You only have one face

Our book club’s kind of fun,

right back when it begun

we would seriously analyse the book

But then we got to chat

And really that was that

The chosen text never got another look

we confide to each other

about our skills as a mother

and the challenges of getting men to work                     

we talk of working pressure

the joy and pain of leisure

and the silence of our own teenage jerk

We discuss our mental health  

And our lack of personal wealth

And constant harassment from the boss

We talk of love and hate

And our latest online date

And the overwhelming stress of grief and loss

We laugh with each other

And we cry with each other

We give praise when one of us does well

We eat with each other

And we drink with each other

We share what we swore we’d never tell

 Our book club’s kind of fun

But the book’s not number one

We have lots of other topics to discuss

We have gossip to be done

And that is much more fun

we just love to be together with just us

I love to sit in an English pub and just hear what the folk have to say

whether its talk of the local weather or the news item of the day

there’s chatter about the cricket, and the disastrous last football game

and talk of political failures and the fact that Boris is to blame

but most of all the talk’s about dogs, as folks enter with one in tow

what a lovely dog? what is it? and how much bigger will it grow?

There’s a general discussion on training and tales of each well loved pet

of what is the best and the worst of the breed, and what dog not to get

There’s chat on the various diets and the exercise each canine needs

theres a long , excited, discussion on bad tempered dogs off their leads

There’s shared stories on ways to travel and not leave the dog behind

To avoid planes and ships, and take shorter trips, dogs comfort on their mind

There’s muttering tales of those people who fail to scoop up the poop

and the sad tales of long lost, loved pooches, to depress the listening group

The English are fun loving people and the pubs are both cosy and nice

but beware if you mistreat a doggy, the air will turn into ice

Ah I love to sit in an English pub and hear all the chatter around me

I love that the locals include me and I engage with the ones that surround me

and I really love dogs, well I love some dogs, but I have very little to say

when the conversation inevitably leads to the dog story of the day

The dog made me go for a walk

He looks at me like he could talk

I said it might rain

He looked sad again

So I put on my shoes with a squawk!

He wagged as I put on his lead

Sniffed each passing tree as he peed

He ran through wet grass

Got leaves stuck on his arse

Ran forward and back at great speed

He barked at a sitting black cat

But it didnt stop for a chat

He pooped and I scooped

Some passing bird swooped

Not sure what he thought about that

The rain then fell down from the skyI

In my hair, down my back, in my eye

The dog had more fun

The rain made him run

And the slippery path made me sigh

We got home and he ran round the place

Rolled on carpet to dry his wet face

Shaking droplets around

Chewing things that he found

Not caring that he’s in disgrace!

I cant watch the news it upsets me

guns, bombs and deaths really get me

I cant bear to see the reality

the blood, grief and loss,

the war noise and ruins

the hopeless and helpless and weakness and strength

for what?

I cant watch the news its so sad

when the fires and the floods are so bad

I cant bear to see the reality

the fear, hope soon dashed

The tired, shocked looks

the brave and the stalwart the grief and the gain

so tough

I cant watch the news its not good

when COVID don’t do what it should

I dont want to see the reality

the masks, fear and death

the anxiety growth

the old and the frail, the grief and the loss

just sad

I wont watch the news it’s too clear

it describes what I dont want to hear

I dont want to see the reality

inhumanity’s rife

The world’s in strife

murder and mayhem and wickedness rule

we are fools

Covid hit hard in 21

With isolation for everyone

We met on Zoom and sang alone

Out of sync, no overtone

Nerryl kept the chorus going

Therese got the straws a-blowing

We sang to each other with solo rotation

We learnt of pitch and music notation

( I tried to succeed at the Kahoot quiz

But the answers escaped me, you know how it is)

We got vaccinated, feeling smug

Full of the AstraZeneca drug

Then we met by the river, together again

Trying to learn a new refrain

Trying to make just one breath last

To hold a long note, like we did in the past

Phew! It’s impossible!

But we’re all still here and that’s a plus

It’d take more than COVID to separate us!

Christmas is coming we’re singing out

Better not cry, better not pout

Cause 2022 is a shiny new year

We’ll receive it with joy, and a smidgeon of fear

I hope Christmas is good for everyone

And together we’ll boot out 2021!

Oh spider in my skimmerbox I wish that you weren’t there

I just bent down to empty it, you gave me quite a scare

You scuttled round a corner but your legs are still on view

I may be so much bigger but I am terrified of you

I gave a squeal, my fear is real, I stepped back in a rush

my bare feet slipped, I nearly tripped and grabbed on to a bush

Oh spider dear, I am full of fear, I fetched a can of spray

on my return, I was to learn, that you had crawled away!

Now spiders are so scary, specially huntsmen up too close

I’d rather face a long brown snake or a nasty covid dose

but scarier still says my beating heart

is when the spider decides to depart

and I cant see him!